Running From Lonliness
by Funny Pink Bunny
Summary: Sorry about the category thing. Fanfiction has gone way downhill....


This story takes place in England, many thousands of years ago. It begins a few hours after sunset. I sit and wait for hours only to find that she isn't coming back for me. Shivering in the rain, I pull my soaked cloak tighter around me and yet the wind blows harder. I begin to cry and beg to unseen spirits for an answer but no answer comes. I sit on the dirt sidewalk. Cold...and alone. A loud crash sounds beside my ear. I wake from a light sleep to find it's raining pots and pans around me. One hits my head. Fully awake, I scramble to my feet, jump over the shattered pots and take off down the road. I can't seem to remember where I am or why I'm there. I run through the crowded streets, dodging people and animals until I dart down an alleyway and I'm finally alone again. I pull myself up onto the dumpster, badly frightened and wishing they were here. But where were they? What happened to me? I'm hit by a sudden rush of memories, mental pictures of things I'd rather have forgotten, as it all comes back to me. From the screaming and yelling, to the escape, to my current situation. I remember that I've nowhere to go until she finds me...if she finds me. I'd run away from the sounds. That's all she'd told me to do was run as far as I could. She didn't say where to go or who to go to. Only to run. And I'd run. All night I'd run through the pouring rain. Tears overtake me as I sit alone in a dark, empty alley on top of a rain soaked dumpster. I pull my legs up to me and curl into a tight ball. 'Where is she?' is all I can think. 'Where is she?'.... After several hours, I've stopped crying and the rain has died down to a light sprinkle. I slide off of the dumpster and my feet sink slightly into the mud. I walk to the end of the alleyway and glance up and down the muddy roads. I'm glad to find that there are very few people out and the sun is peeking over the edge of the distant mountains. There's something magical about this time of the morning, when the sun's first rays spew out over the snowcapped peaks and pour down the slopes like liquid butter. The sight somwhat lifts my spirits and without much thought I walk towards the mountains, gazing up at the sunrise and nearing the edge of the forest surrounding the small town. When I reach the first trees, I turn around and look into the town. Everything seems peaceful. Too peaceful. I wonder where it is that I'm planning to go. I realize that staying in town and waiting would be the logical thing to do, but, when my gaze returns to the moutnains, I sigh and continue into the dark, lonely woods. The morning sun soon reaches the forest and peeks down at me through the leaves, casting eery shadows across the forest floor. Everything around me seems eery and still. Maybe it's just my mood. I step over fallen trees and make my way around obstacles, all the while staring up at the cool blue of the mountains. My walking begins to seem fruitless. The thickening of the trees around me is the only sign that I have gone any further into the forest. Afraid to look back for fear of losing my nerve, I press on well into the day. Around late afternoon, I find myself at a small clearing where the sun's rays slant through the break in the canopy. A small stream trickles nearby and wild berries are growing in a ring around the clearing. I take off my cloak and, when the warm breeze hits my body, I realize that I should have taken it off sooner. I fold it in half and lay it on the ground to sit on before walking to the stream and kneeling to drink. I am tired and lonely and, though I try to ignore it, it is beginning to take a toll on my strength. I find what ripe berries I can and situate myself on my cloak in the sunlight. After I've had my fill of berries, I glance around me and the thought crosses my mind that I should move on. But when my dark green eyes fall upon the cool, clear stream sparkling in the sunlight, I notice an object gleaming beneath the surface a few feet from the bank. I stand up, trying to make out the object but it is blurred by the flowing water. I sigh at my carelessness but, nonetheless, I walk across the clearing and reach into the water, pulling out a silver chain with a strange talisman dangling from it. The necklace is fully intact and still shining as if new. I guess that it could not have been lost very long ago. I dry it on my shirt and study the talisman. It appears to be a series of circles somewhat like a target with a glowing purple gem in the center. For no particular reason, I put the necklace on and move back to my cloak to gather what few posessions I have and after stopping to collect some more berries for later, I set out towards the darkening mountains. Twilight takes over and the sun's rays slant out in front of me. I glance back up at the sun setting over the treetops. The sight is no less amazing that sunrise but any traces of hope have left me. There is no way for her or anyone to find me as long as I'm traveling away from them, but the force of the moutains is strangely compelling and I feel that my future awaits me there. I turn around and make my way through the woods, glowing orange in the waning sunlight. I wake with a start, willing my brain to join me in reality. I realize I'd heard a noise in my sleep. Unsure if it was a dream, I stand up, a bit unsteady, and listen hard. Hearing nothing I sigh in relief and pick up my belongings to move on. The sky lightens as the morning sun climbs over the mountains and drifts into the sky. My heart lightens also as I am surrounded by small pink and blue flowers covered in butterflies. I smile to myself and stop to look around me before pulling off my cloak and letting the fresh air soak into my skin. A familiar noise sounds to my right and I recognize it as the sound I had heard when I awoke. I crouch down and move into the bushes, listening for the noise again. I hear it again and identify it as footsteps of some kind. An animal, maybe. I wait as the steps grow louder and gasp with surprise as a horse breaks through the flowers. There is no rider or any human that I can see or hear but the horse wears a saddle and seems tame enough as I make my way cautiously towards it. I place a hand on it's nose and search through it's saddle bags finding only oats and a small suede bag closed by a drawsting. I yank open the bag and find that it is filled with gleaming gems. I pull it closed and look around. First a necklace and now a saddled horse. It seems the oddest thing to do but, without thinking, I leap onto the horse and urge him forward. If there is no one with him then why let him run, alone, through the woods? It's not like I couldn't use a ride. I move forward at a faster pace, llistening to the birds whistle their different songs and, by nightfall, I reach the base of the mountains. After a short time, I find a dark cave and build a fire near the entrance to see inside. In the flickering light, I see only some bones, bleached clean by time and I deem the cave safe for the night. I build another fire inside the cave and, after banking it for the night, I lead the horse inside, tying his bridle to a nearby rock. I lay on my cloak and stare up at the rock ceiling lit by my fire, listening to the crickets chirping loudly in the woods. The sound echoes eerily down the mountains and through the cave. I roll onto my side and stare into the flames for a few minutes before drifting into an uneasy sleep. I, once again, awaken to that unfamiliar sound. It is early morning. Still dark. Now that I am aware of the sound's source, it ceases to alarm me and I close my eyes to listen to the songbirds starting the day. I eventually get up, douse the fire and get my things together. I walk outside and stretch. Seeing that the horse is nearby, I sit down and watch the thinning forest gradually lighten until the world is alive. Added to the sound of the songbirds are the calls of the crows searching for breakfast, the sounds of squirrels cracking nuts and woodpeckers tearing bark from the trees. Fully awake, I pull out my store of berries and eat what is left before loading my things on the horse and picking up my course to the snow-capped mountains. After a few hours of riding, I become aware of a terrible thirst creeping up on me. I try to ignore it, keeping my mind on the forest life. Stopping for a moment, I observe a doe and her fawn, the last I will see before the forest is left behind me, picking their way delicately over the leaves and twigs. I note their direction and, after about fifteen minutes of continuing up the mountains, I turn not quite ninety degrees to the right, riding aslant to the edge of the forest. A few minutes later, I find what I was looking for. Water. A rather large stream runs away from the mountains. The result of the oncoming spring season, no doubt. I impatiently leap from the horse's back and run to the water, kneeling down and scooping handfuls to my mouth. When I'm finished, I sit cross-legged and watch the water sparkle in what sunlight makes it through the canopy. I stand to leave. Standing up, I can see, across the water, a small clump of wild mushrooms. Not my favorite food, but food nonetheless. I remove my boots and roll up my pants before stepping cautiously into the chilly water. I slowly make my way to the middle, where the water reaches almost to my knees and then to the other side, where I examine the mushrooms and, finding them edible, I eat one and pick as many as I can carry. Back across the stream, I stuff the mushrooms into the saddlebags that were already on the horse and pick a small violet from a nearby patch of flowers. Tucking my long black hair behind my ear, I place the flower in my hair and after packing some twigs, I finally remount the horse. I spend three more days travelling up the rocky slopes. Once sleeping in the branches of a fir-like tree I could not identify and then finding another cave under a rocky cliff. I eat whatever I find and drink from the stream that I am now travelling parallel to. Gradually, food grows more scarce and I eventually run out of mushrooms. Halfway through the third day, I create a makeshift spear from the largest of my twigs and manage to spear a rabbit. I spend the rest of that day curing it's hide to make leather for a sling, the only other hunting weapon I'd been trained to use. As the sun begins to set, I cook the rabbit and dry what I don't eat as best I can without an elder's instruction and leave to find myself a cave. As the last sliver of the sun sinks below the horizon, I catch a glimpse of light from the corner of my eye. I head towards it and in a half hour I find myself at the gates of a mountain village. I sigh, happy to have come apon civilization, and dismount my horse, leading her to the gates. I wrap sharply three times and an older-looking man in uniform lets me into the village without question. Odd as that is, I don't dwell on it. I remount the horse and ride down a dirt road until I reach the buildings. I ease the horse into a walk and, finding what looks like an inn, I tie her to the nearest railing and enter the dimly lit building. Inside, it is warm and stuffy. There are men here and there playing cards, hitting on the waitresses, passed out on the tables. The bartender is cleaning glasses, not doing a very good job. I walk to the bar and stare at him, wondering if he's as mean as he looks. He notices me eventually. How could he not? A young girl with raven-black hair and bright emerald green eyes sitting at a bar in the middle of the night amongst the drunks and gamblers. Not odd at all. He smiles, looking amused, and it takes all of my courage not to bolt from the room and sleep in a barn. I attempt a smile and succeed for the most part. "Can ah help ya little girl?" he asks with an unidentifiable accent. Keeping the smile plastered on my face, I answer. "I need a room for the night." He chuckles lightly. "And ya won't be havin a drink naw, will ya?" "Just a room, please." I repeat, trying to keep my temper. "Oll right. That's five chinks fer the night." I hand count out five gold coins and ponder over his use of the word 'chinks' as he hands me a small brass key and tells me the room number. I remember to say thank you and, relieved to be done talking to the giant man, I find my way to the stairs and, somehow, I find my room. I find that it is a small square room with one door to what I assume is the washroom. There is a bed with one pillow and a quilt of all different colors. Everything looks hand-sewn. Even the rug, which is just a large, woven oval of dark blue. There is a small chest in one corner and a crooked little table by the bed holding the only source of light, a small lantern of some sort, also looking, somehow, homemade. The last of the furniture is a short table holding a mirror and a padded stool in front of it. I lock the door behind me and set my pack on the bed before walking into the washroom. In the darkness I can see a small tub and a water pump. There must be water nearby to have a pump on the second floor of a building. I walk to the small, round window and peer out. As suspected, there is a rather large river behind the inn. I walk back to my room, retrieve the lantern and return to the washroom. After a much-needed bath, I wash my clothes in the tub and lay them on the table to dry, blowing out the lantern. I place it on the floor and crawl under the covers. I fall asleep in a matter of minutes, feeling safe and warm. 


End file.
